


The Words I Cannot Say(but you hear them anyway)

by War_of_Stars



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, F/M, Female Ned Stark, Gender or Sex Swap, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-01-06 06:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18382733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/War_of_Stars/pseuds/War_of_Stars
Summary: Aerys is growing increasingly unstable. Convinced that his father must be supplanted, Rhaegar plans to ally with a Great House and overthrow his father, once and for all.Eddara Stark enters the Red Keep with her sister, hoping to fulfill her father’s wishes to get her sister married to the prince, and quickly becoming tangled in a web of intrigue and deception.In which a dragon prince finds that the Quiet Wolf lives up to her name.





	1. The Quiet Wolf

Something was wrong.

Lyarra Stark leaned back, her body flushed from the exertion of childbirth, and feared the worst when the babe made no noise, rays of light illuminating the minuscule form that laid in the maester's hands, helpless.

Only, the babe was moving, which meant it could not be a stillborn. Her daughter's mouth was open in a soundless cry, her tiny limbs flailing around, sticky with blood.

"Give her to me," Lyarra gasped, and the worry in her heart only eased when her baby girl was placed in her arms, with locks of raven hair and dark grey eyes that appeared silver in the moonlight.

The maids all shifted uncomfortably in the chamber as Lord Rickard entered the room, walking over to his wife and gazing at his quiet newborn daughter in confusion. It was the maester who finally broke the suffocating silence.

"I'm afraid the babe is mute, Lady Lyarra."

Rickard let out a disappointed sigh that he could not stifle in time, but Lyarra merely clutched the girl closer to her chest.

"It does not matter. She is our daughter, and we are keeping her, Rickard." Her husband nodded in agreement, looking slightly offended that she would think he would do anything else, and the knot in her stomach eased somewhat. She knew, of course, that her lord husband would've preferred a son or a healthy baby girl, but he was not the type to cast out his own child.

If her daughter had been born to a commoner or a crueler lord, she would've undoubtedly been left to die on some hill, or thrown into the sea, as was the common practice for children born with deformities of any kind. Westeros had little tolerance for those born dwarfs, blind, deaf, mute, or with an illness of any kind. But Rickard was not that kind of man.

Even if he was, Lyarra would sooner throw _him_ into the sea than give up her newborn daughter.

She cradled the babe in her arms, shifting the blanket and smiling softly.

"Eddara Stark. She will be Eddara Stark, lady of the North. She may be mute, but she will be _mighty_."

***************

_Seventeen years later..._

"Rhaegar Targaryen can go screw himself!"

Lyanna stomped her foot, ripping the piece of paper from the servant's hands and tossing it carelessly onto the table.

Eddara shook her head at her sister's antics.

Rickard scowled. "You will do as you're bid, Lyanna."

"I will not marry some prince a hundred miles away whom I don't even know."

"Think of our house, foolish girl! A betrothal to the prince will elevate our house beyond anything we could possibly imagine. If he chooses you, your sons will be kings!"

While Rickard and Lyanna argued, Ned picked up the piece of paper curiously, reading its entire contents, and bending slightly so that Benjen could read with her.

_Lord Rickard,_

_I hope all is well with you and your family. The Crown holds its Warden in the North in high esteem, and given your prominent position in the Seven Kingdoms, I would like to formally extend an invitation for your youngest daughter, the lady Lyanna Stark, to come to court in King's Landing. I believe we shall greatly benefit from her prescence at court. Additionally, I have invited numerous other young ladies to court as well, to strengthen our ties throughout Westeros, so your daughter shall find herself in excellent company. I look forward to seeing Lyanna at court. Please send my regards to the rest of your family._

_Sincerely,_

_Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone_

Benjen frowned. "I don't understand. The letter doesn't even mention anything about a betrothal, Ned."

_Sometimes, people don't always say things outright, Benjen. They imply them. Everyone knows Rhaegar Targaryen is nineteen years old and still unwed. The fact that he's invited Lyanna to court, and mentions several other ladies in the letter, means he's looking for a wife, even if he doesn't state it explicitly,_ Ned signed, bending and moving her fingers to form the invisible words. 

She may be unable to speak, but Eddara had created a language of hand signs when she was a young girl, and she'd taught her siblings how to understand it so that they could still communicate with her without pen and parchment.

Benjen scrunched his nose. "But I don't want Lya to go."

_She has to. You see here, at the end of the letter, where the prince says he's looking forward to seeing Lyanna? Extending an invitation is mere formality, dear, but the prince isn't really asking._

Benjen scowled at that, his expression matching Lyanna's as father told her that she could cry and protest all she wanted, but he would drag Lyanna to the capital himself if he had to.

"Well, at least you won’t have to leave too. You’ll stay with me," Benjen remarked brightly, and Eddara smiled in response. Obviously, no one asked why Lyanna had received the invitation and Eddara had not; the prince couldn't exactly marry a mute girl, after all.

Lyanna stomped out of the room, raging at their father. Sighing, Ned left her unfinished breakfast and followed suit, running to catch up with her younger sister.

Ever since Lyarra had died, Ned had taken her place in a way, looking after Lyanna and Benjen as best as she could. It was her duty, as the eldest woman of the household, so Eddara laid a comforting hand on Lyanna's shoulder.

"It's not fair! Winterfell is my home, and Winterfell is where I'll stay, Eddara," Lyanna protested with a determined look on her face, leaning into her sister's touch.

_I know you're upset, sweetling, but father will not change his mind. Besides, you haven't even met the prince yet. Perhaps you'll grow fond of him._

_You have to marry someday, Lya. It is expected of you._

"Grow fond of him? After he basically ordered me to come to court?" Lyanna exclaimed furiously.

"King's Landing is so far from Winterfell. If I do go to court and he ends up choosing me to be his wife, I'll almost never come back here," she bemoaned.

_Oh, Lyanna. Even if you don't see Winterfell for a long time, it’ll always be in your heart, sweetling._

“That’s not enough Ned. It’s... I hate them. I hate the king, I hate the prince, damn them both!”

It’s heresy, what her younger sister was saying, but Eddara squeezed her shoulder comfortingly nevertheless.

_I know, Lyanna. I know._

“Ned... promise me you’ll come with me to court. It’s horrible enough I have to leave Winterfell, I can’t leave you too.”

Lyanna reached out and squeezed Ned’s hand, and she squeezed hers in return.

_I’ll be with you, Lyanna. I promise._

***************

Mere days later, Eddara found herself silently observing her siblings as they prepared for their journey. Brandon was in high spirits — as always — and Benjen and Lyanna were already astride their horses, finishing their race through the godswood and laughing as they entered the courtyard.

Rickard Stark stepped up next to his eldest daughter, watching his younger children.

“I trust you’ll look after your siblings, Eddara, and help Lyanna secure this match. She’ll find no better in all Seven Kingdoms.”

Ned nodded, her eyes filled with a silent vow. Lyanna would need her at court, especially if half the things she had heard about Aerys were true.

Richard gave her a rare smile. “You remind me so much of Lyarra sometimes. Always mindful of your responsibility.”

“I know I can always rely on you, Ned.”

Eddara allowed a smile to cross her face at that.

_I won’t let you down._

Richard walked away, and it was just her then. Her and Winter, a fine horse from the Reach that father had gifted her with for her name-day.

She breathed in the chilly air, her senses tingling as she viewed her home. Winterfell, with its towers taller than the sky, the tips coated in snow. The gentle flurries that fell upon her and melted against her skin.

And beyond, the godswood lay in all its mystery, seemingly beckoning Eddara as it always had, a constantly comforting presence.

 _King’s Landing will have a godswood_ , Eddara reminded herself, and she told herself that was good enough. 

Oh, but she would _miss_ her beloved home, no matter how long the separation would be.

Pale hands suddenly wrapped around her stomach, and Eddara returned Benjen’s hug with as much ferocity as she could muster. She would miss Benjen most of all.

Slowly, Eddara got up on her horse, swinging one leg over the side and joining Lyanna and Brandon in leading the men who would accompany them, waving goodbye to Benjen one last time.

And so, they set off to King’s Landing.

***************

Eddara had never ventured farther south than White Harbor, for there had never been any reason for her to. 

The South seemed foreign to her, the heat blistering her skin, the rivers cutting odd paths through the ground. She understood why they called it the Riverlands, now. 

They passed the ruins of Harrenhal, riding across the large wheat fields of the Reach, and Eddara marvelled at the sheer abundance of the South.

“Ned, look!” Lyanna pointed excitedly at the distance, where King’s Landing lay. For all her apprehension at meeting the prince, Lyanna had found all the sights they had seen as wondrous as Ned had. 

Although, when Eddara had envisioned King’s Landing, she hadn’t thought it would _smell_ quite like it did, as they approached the city.

As the city gates opened to welcome them in, Ned tried to quell her sense of guilt at the thought of following her father’s commands. 

_Lyanna will get to see all Seven Kingdoms when she’s queen,_ she told herself.

Above them, the Red Keep cast an ominous shadow, as the Starks of Winterfell stepped into the home of the dragons.

***************

Rhaegar Targaryen stood in his solar, silently observing the procession of lords and ladies from every corner of Westeros enter the city. Next to him, Arthur Dayne, watched his prince, his countenance not betraying even a flicker of emotion.

“The Starks and Lannisters are arriving today, Rhaegar, as well as some of the vassal lords and ladies. The Martells will reach the port in two days time.”

“Has everyone else arrived at court?”

“I believe so.”

“Good,” the prince replied curtly, preoccuppied with watching the city’s newest inhabitants.

“Do you know whom you will choose?”

“I cannot be certain. Not yet, anyway.”

“You needn’t rush, Rhaegar.”

“On the contrary, Arthur, I should’ve done this sooner.” Rhaegar paused, before sighing. “He’s gotten worse.”

Arthur slowly tilted his head in agreement. 

Rhaegar gave the Stark party a final glance before turning on his heel, walking purposefully towards the door.

It was time to greet them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This is my second fem!Ned fic, and one thing I will say is that this fic is a lot more lighthearted than my other one. I’m kind of writing this one for the heck of it and because the idea just came to me, so it’ll have intrigue but there’s also a little more fluff, and admittedly it’s a little less Game of Thrones-esque. 
> 
> Basically, it’s a guilty pleasure fic ;)
> 
> To recap, Rhaegar is unmarried and has invited ladies from across Westeros to come to court. Lyanna has been invited as well, and is accompanied by Brandon and Eddara, who I decided to make mute in this fic, a play on her “Quiet Wolf” nickname. We don’t know too much about how people who are born mute or blind are treated in Westeros(I don’t think Maester Aemon was born blind), although we know how horribly everyone treats Tyrion, so I’m assuming Westerosi don’t care much for people whom they view as “deformed.” Plus, in medieval times, people would abandoned deformed or disabled babies out to die(which is pretty terrible), so this is kind of the basis for how people may view Eddara outside of her own home and family, although it may not be as bad as it is with Tyrion because her limitation isn’t obvious. Admittedly, this is all kind of speculation, but I thought it would make for an interesting twist. 
> 
> *****NOTE: Whenever something is in italics, this is Eddara making hand signs or writing something down on paper to communicate with other people, since she can’t talk. Occassionally, I’ll use italics to convey her thoughts, but I’ll make it obvious that it’s just her thoughts in that case.
> 
> Also, on a side note, this is almost like a prelude, so the chapters will get a little longer from here, and you’ll get a better sense of the characters.
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos! Any feedback is greatly appreciated, as long as it’s not just flames.


	2. First Meetings

Eddara admired the Great Hall as sunlight poured into the throne room, glinting off the sharp spikes of the Iron Throne. The hall was filled with nobles from every corner of Westeros, all of whom seemed just as curious about her as she was about them.

On top of the throne, there sat a decrepit man with long, yellowing fingernails who scowled at the approaching Starks. 

Nevertheless, Eddara curtsied deeply to the king, whereas Lyanna and Brandon’s bows were noticeably more shallow. Of course, it was understandable; Aerys hardly had the best reputation, and disturbing rumors had been spreading about him as far as even the North.

Still, Aerys’ temper was notoriously volatile, and the last thing Eddara wanted to do was set off a Mad King. 

She and Lyanna curtsied again to Queen Rhaella, who gave them a small, wavering smile. A twinge of sympathy struck Eddara’s heart, for Rhaella was a beautiful, but frail woman, with wavy silver-blonde hair and melancholy purple eyes.

The prince suddenly stepped into view, walking over to greet them, and Eddara’s breath catches.

Rhaegar resembled Rhaella, his purple eyes filled with hidden depths, his silver hair framing sharp cheekbones. Now she understood why the Silver Prince was called more beautiful than handsome, for his Targaryen features were so striking she could not turn away.

“Welcome to court, Lord Brandon.”

His words were enough to snap Ned out of her trance. Her brother greeted Rhaegar with a bow, exchanging some pleasantries before Rhaegar’s eyes landed on her.

He gave her a perfunctory bow, and she returned the gesture with yet another curtsy, wondering what silliness had briefly overtaken her before.

She was no Lyanna in terms of her opposition to marriage, but she certainly wasn’t one of the ladies in her father’s court, the ones that giggled and whispered whenever a man with fine features crossed their paths.

Eddara decided it hardly mattered anyway, for it was Lyanna that must wed the prince. Speaking of which, she nudged her defiant sister, and winced as Lyanna gave the shallowest curtsy she’d ever seen, staring at the prince angrily all the while.

If Rhaegar was perturbed, he didn’t show it, smiling gently at Lyanna and bending down to kiss her hand.

“Lady Lyanna. Thank you for accepting my invitation. You shall be in good company here at the Keep.”

“I suppose, your majesty.”

Eddara nearly stepped on Lyanna’s foot for that, but instead chose to discreetly sign to her. 

_Stop it, Lya. You’re being rude._

Lyanna ignored her but slightly toned down her glare, mimicking her sister by casting her face to the ground, except Lyanna’s gesture was laced with false demureness.

Rhaegar turned around to face Brandon once more. “My servant will show you and your sisters to their quarters, my lord. I know it’s been a long ride, but I do hope you can join us for dinner.”

“We would be honored, your grace.”

The Stark party departed the throne room as a servant stepped forward to lead them to their quarters.

***************

Eddara traced the rose patterns on the golden blankets covering her bed, slowly lifting her head to observe her sister.

Lyanna was leaning forward on the balcony, her curly, raven-colored hair flittering in the breeze.

Suddenly, a bundle of blue fabric slapped her younger sister in the face, and Lyanna fumbled before barely catching it.

Eddara’s shoulders shook with silent laughter at the irritated look on her sister’s face. 

“Ned!”

_You should change, Lyanna. The prince will be expecting us for dinner._

Lyanna sighed, throwing the dress onto the bed.

“We still have some time. Look outside, Ned!” Lya gestured, throwing her palms out towards the illustrious city.

“There’s so much to _do_ here!”

_You want to explore King’s Landing? Now? Lya, we’ve just arrived here._

“Exactly! What better time to explore than now, before Brandon has time to check in on us and have guards watch our every move?”

Eddara shook her head.

_Fine. But we’ll have to be discreet._

***************

Eddara pulled her hood over her face, following Lyanna down the staircase. 

_Are you sure you know where we’re going?_

“Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t—”

Lyanna bumped into a large broad-shouldered man with dark hair and stormy blue eyes, nearly going sprawling on the floor.

“Ow! Watch where you’re going!” Lyanna snapped, as Eddara pulled her to her feet.

“Sorry my lady! I didn’t see you there,” the man chuckled, before holding out his hand. “I’m Robert.”

Ned smiled and nodded at the rather amiable man, while Lyanna huffed. “And I’m _leaving._ Come on, Ned!”

They disappeared around the corner, leaving an amused Robert Baratheon staring after them in confusion.

It’s only the guards which block their way after that — guards which step aside to let them pass as soon as Lyanna removed her hood and let them know exactly who they were.

Eddara stared at the multitude of people surrounding her outside the keep in awe. She’d never this many people before, not even when she’d ventured outside the walls of Winterfell. She could hear snippets of their conversations — upcoming marriages, food prices — but never had she felt so simultaneously overwhelmed and intrigued.

So this was what the world was like, outside the place she called home. Everyone around her seemed so lively, with merchants calling out and selling their wares in the streets, children playing games in street corners, smallfolk laughing.

Although, she could do without the _smell._

Apparently, Lya shared her wonder of the city. Already, she had struck up a conversation with a merchant, a Braavosi from the looks of him. 

Eddara watched her sister throw her head back and laugh, and it wasn’t long before the merchant was laughing with her at some joke or another.

That was Lyanna. She had always had a gift for making people smile, even when she had been young. There was a boldness in her, an outspokeness that many had admired in her sister, and her zest for life was infectious.

 _She would make a good queen_ , Eddara mused idly, before suddenly being shoved aside, nearly tripping over her own feet and falling flat on her own face.

“Make way! Make way for the lions of Lannister!” Ned heard a voice cry out.

The smallfolk around her all bowed as an ornate carriage passed by them, stopping right outside the Red Keep.

Ned lifted her head ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of red slippers as a beautiful, golden-haired girl stepped out of the carriage. Ned would almost call her lovely, if not for the haughty expression which slightly marred her facial features. She had sharp cheekbones, and her maroon dress was embroidered with golden lions, with dark rubies tracing the sleeves. It was far more ornate then anything Eddara had worn in her entire lifetime.

Two boys stepped out after her; one was also clothed in red and resembled the girl closely, displaying a Lannister crest, whereas the other was dressed in green and was burying his face in the tunic of his brother, if Eddara were to guess.

So these were the Lannisters.

“Excellent company, eh?” Lyanna whispered in Eddara’s ear, as they watched the Lannisters enter King’s Landing. 

“I bet five silver stags that Cersei Lannister is as pompous as she looks.”

_Don’t judge, Lya. You never know._

Her sister shook her head. 

“Trust me, Ned. I know.”

***************

They hurry back to their quarters, only to be met with Brandon, who made a feeble attempt at pretending to be angry with them before telling them to change quickly, for it would not do to keep the king waiting.

Ned helped Lyanna pull on the light blue dress, the one which fluttered when her sister walked and brought out her eyes, before pulling on a plain grey one for herself.

They arrived in the dining hall, and apparently they’re the last ones to do so, for everyone already seemed to be there for the feast. Eddara saw some lords and ladies dancing, others drinking(Brandon), and the rest quietly conversing with one another.

Ned turned around, only to see that Lyanna had already talked some young lord into dancing with her.

Sighing, Eddara walked over to her brother, who had just finished draining his wine cup, as evidenced by his red face and loud laughter. _Brandon! We’re supposed to be helping Lyanna!_

“Helping her with what? Father told me to look after the both of you, and that’s what I’ll do. If Rhaegar wants to come to her, then fine; if not, let it go, Neddie. You’ve got to lighten up!” Brandon clapped her hard on the back so that Ned almost fell down for the second time that day, but a strong hand suddenly reached out and grasped her elbow, preventing her from losing your balance.

“Easy, my lady. It looks like your brother likes his wine even more than I do.”

Eddara turned around, only to be faced with the boy she and her sister had run into earlier. The stag pin on his chest immediately confirmed his identity. 

Lord Robert Baratheon, of the Stormlands.

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he gazed upon her. “I do not believe you ever mentioned your name, my lady.”

Eddara opened her mouth, but immediately closed it, and an awkward silence settled over them as Ned looked around desperately for a paper, anything to convey her words.

“Right, well...” Robert scratched the back of his head uneasily, watching Brandon out of the corner of his eye when he suddenly paused, and looked at her in a moment of understanding. 

“Oh! Oh, you must be Eddara Stark. The mute girl.” 

Robert blinked. “I mean, I don’t mean that as if— what I meant to say was—”

“Ned! What are you doing here? Dance with me!” Lyanna laughed, snatching Ned’s hand with her own. She suddenly caught a glimpse of the boy her sister was talking to, and Lyanna’s expression turned frosty.

“Oh. It’s _you._ Why are you bothering my sister?”

Robert protested, “I wasn’t—”

Eddara never did get to hear the rest of Robert’s sentence, because suddenly she found herself dragged into a circle of spinning ladies and lords, as Lyanna grasped both her hands and twirled her around, laughing all the time.

“See Ned? Isn’t this more fun than simpering before some boring prince?”

Eddara nearly choked. _He’s the future king—_

Lyanna waved her off, tugging her towards the lord she had been dancing with earlier.

“Lord Jaime, would you dance with my sister? She is far too shy to ask anyone on her own, and you dance so well.”

Ned stepped on Lyanna’s foot, slightly mortified, but to her surprise, Jaime acquiesced, smiling as he spun her around. He didn’t seem bothered by their lack of conversation(not like the other men in Winterfell), but it didn’t take Eddara long to figure out why.

Jaime may be dancing with her, but his eyes always search for his siblings; either Tyrion, who was quietly reading a book in the corner of the room, or Cersei, who was on the dais speaking with the prince.

Eddara tapped Jaime gently on the shoulder twice, before stepping away, curtsying and then gesturing towards his siblings, silently giving him permission. “Oh— I’m sorry if I wasn’t better company, Lady Eddara.”

Ned fervently shook her head, denying the notion, before gesturing again.

“Yes— yes, I think I would like to check on my siblings. It was a pleasure meeting you, my lady.” Jaime gave her a curt bow before disappearing into the crowd of nobles, and she returned her gaze to Lady Cersei.

She was dressed in a different gown; this one was a grass-green color, studded with emeralds. The haughty expression on her face was gone; replaced with something far more pleasing, as the prince smiled widely at something she has said.

Cersei Lannister was an ideal match for the prince. Rumoured to be the most beautiful woman in Westeros and belonging to the wealthiest family in all Seven Kingdoms certainly gave her the advantage.

But Cersei Lannister wasn’t the only one playing this game. A gaggle of ladies surrounded her and the prince, giggling amongst themselves and listening attentively to the conversation. Even from around the room, she saw ladies from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms shoot glances Rhaegar’s way.

Lysa Tully hung onto his majesty’s every word next to Cersei, her red hair falling down her shoulders in smooth waves, contrasting sharply against her glittering sapphire gown. Mina and Janna Tyrell stared at Rhaegar wistfully, their kind brown eyes and dark hair covered with daisies. Ned suddenly felt plain in her unadorned grey dresss, and was grateful that atleast Lyanna was wearing something a little more presentable.

But clearly, they would need other dresses. Their northern ones couldn’t compare to the elaborate southron gowns that everyone else wore.

And there were more girls— Hightowers, Florents, even Redwynes and Freys— who gazed upon their future king. 

Not to mention, Princess Elia hadn’t even arrived yet, and she was said to be favored by the king himself as a potential match for his son.

Getting Lyanna to the throne would not be an easy task.

Eddara shook her head at that. Father had asked her to help Lyanna, and that was what she would attempt to do... but she wouldn’t scheme, not like the rest of them. It wasn’t _her._

Lyanna was strong, and lively. All she had to do was make the prince see that.

***************

Rhaegar nodded his head absently as Janna Tyrell spoke to him about how impressed she had been upon laying eyes on King’s Landing. 

He had tried to speak with every lady there atleast once. Cersei Lannister had been the most charming, and truth be told, he had liked the girl, even if there was a cunning air about her that had somewhat unnerved him when they first met. Lysa Tully was a sweet and rather simple girl — far too much so to survive life at royal court. The girl was too naive for a future as queen, and she wasn’t the only one either. Leyla Hightower was already shooting the king horrified looks, and while she had the good sense to do it discreetly, Rhaegar knew she wouldn’t last much longer at court either. 

She wanted the power without the responsibility; almost all of them did. And most of them brought little to the table if they were to become queen in terms of men and gold, which he would need if he truly wanted to stage a rebellion.

Rhaegar hated himself a little for it, thinking of each of them as a queen and a pawn on a cyvasse board rather than his potential wife. But he must, for whatever else he is, Rhaegar must be king, first and foremost.

And whomever his queen will be, he will need her to love the people as he does. To be dedicated to them, dutiful, compassionate.

To support him when the fateful day arrived.

He needed someone loyal. Someone he could trust. Someone strong, who wouldn't tremble at the thought of treason if it was for the greater good.

He looked out into the hall overflowing with noble ladies from across the realm and sighed.

Now where was he going to find someone like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! To everybody that left comments in the last chapter, thanks so much for the encouragement! If you liked what you read, please comment/leave kudos! As always, I’m interested to see what you guys think.
> 
> Also, on a side note, does anyone know how to insert images into the chapter notes at the end? I want to upload a fancast of what I think everyone looks like, but I’ve tried looking up how online and couldn’t seem to find anything.


	3. A Missed Date

Eddara stretched her arms out, sleepily rubbing her eyes and pulling herself up on the bed. 

The royals certainly knew how to throw a feast, that much was certain. 

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, and Ned smiled, walking over to the balcony as her nightgown trailed behind her. She closed her eyes, feeling the sun’s rays warm her face and bathe the city in gold.

Already, King’s Landing was buzzing with life. Below her, smallfolk went about their day-to-day business, entering the Sept and trading their wares. 

And for must be the twentieth time that week, their routine was disrupted by a carriage. 

A carriage, surrounded by fifteen sand steeds, making its way toward the Red Keep. Attached to it, a saffron flag with a maroon sun pierced by a spear flapped in the wind.

Ned drew her nightgown closer around her shoulders. The Martells had arrived.

***************

Observing the Martell party now, in court, Eddara knew that the unkind rumours about Princess Elia were simply untrue. There were those whom whispered that the Dornish princess was frail — and yet, Ned only saw her unyielding composure as she curtsied to the king in the throne room, nodding at several nobles around the room.

The Dornish princess’ dark irises blazed with a smoldering fire as they landed on the prince, and Elia gave the most perfect curtsy Ned had ever seen. Her brother, Prince Oberyn, bowed next to her, his eyes filled with mischief and danger.

They were daring, the Dornish pair, and Ned could not help but admire them for it. They carried themselves with a kind of confidence that she could only dream of possessing — the same kind of confidence that Lya and Brandon had.

“Princess Elia. I hope you had a safe journey here. My servant can show you to your quarters, if you need rest.”

“My journey has been splendid, your grace. The city is absolutely lovely, and in fact, I happened to catch a glimpse of the queen’s gardens on my way here. As I’m quite well-rested, would you show them to me? Assuming, of course, that you aren’t busy. I would hate to get in the way of your princely responsibilities.”

Whispers broke out immediately. Other ladies had lightly flirted with the prince, of course — but none had yet been so bold.

Rhaegar seemed taken aback, but only for a second, before shooting the princess a smile. “If you’re not tired, then of course, princess.” He held out his arm, and Elia took it, smiling so widely she reminded Eddara of the morning sun.

Oberyn nodded at his sister as the two strolled past the Dornish party before rolling an apple in his hand, eyeing the other ladies at court. 

They giggled whenever his gaze lingered on a woman too long, although Lyanna rolled her eyes when he glanced at her. He turned instead to Ned herself then, cheekily winking at her, and Eddara felt her face go warm, quickly averting her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Prince Oberyn is a horrible flirt, he does that to just about everyone,” a voice drawled near Ned’s ear. She turned her head, only to be faced with Lady Cersei, who was staring at her with an annoyed look on her face.

“I’m hosting an afternoon tea tomorrow, in the gardens. Tell your sister to come join us, will you?”

The golden-haired girl left before Ned could react, pulling her twin brother with her. The little one trailed after them, but not before giving Eddara a small wave, grinning ever so slightly. She found herself smiling and waving back at tiny Tyrion — two individuals out of place here at court, where everyone was daring and beautiful and acted like they had been ripped from the storybooks she had grown up reading.

Gallant knights, wealthy lords, fair ladies — King’s Landing was quite a sight, indeed.

She shook her head, smiling, and turned to reunite with Lyanna, who was already chatting with some Florent boy she’d befriended, before mistakenly, her eyes met the king’s.

His cracked lips formed a sneer, cruelty glinting in his hardened purple eyes, and an involuntary shudder ran down her spine before he pivoted to his Master of Whispers. 

There were heroes, here, yes — but where there were heroes, demons would follow.

***************

Rhaegar walked down the long hallway towards the Starks’ room, smiling all the while. 

Today had been a good day. He had gotten to spend some time with Elia Martell in the morning, a match he knew his father favored. In truth, it was a match he was not entirely disapproving of either; the Martells had both wealth and manpower, not to mention powerful trading allies in Essos. Elia herself, from what he had seen of her, was beautiful and good-natured, but there was a Dornish fire simmering under her onyx eyes, and she clearly knew how to handle herself around the king.

Unlike the Lady Lyanna, who had nearly set him off the day she had arrived. Ah well, he couldn’t dismiss her as a possibility yet, he supposed, which is why he had sent a servant to request that she join him in the gardens for a stroll later in the day. Tomorrow, he had already arranged to then meet with Lady Cersei as well.

He knocked on the Starks’ door.

“Come in!” The voice didn’t sound like Lyanna’s, but he opened the door anyway. 

A servant bowed to the silver prince as he entered the room. Lady Lyanna’s sister immediately curtsied deeply, and Rhaegar could see the surprise on her face. 

“Lady... lady Stark, it’s good to see you. Where is your sister?”

The other girl blinked. Slowly, she turned to her servant and began scribbling furiously on a nearby piece of parchment, before silently giving it to the other girl. Rhaegar barely had time to comprehend the strange turn of events before the servant began speaking to him again, and it became evident to him that she had been the one to give him permission to enter.

“Lady Lyanna went out to explore King’s Landing, your grace. She left an hour ago, and we do not expect her back before supper.”

Rhaegar sighed. Apparently, Lyanna was less keen on getting to know him than he was on getting to know her. “That’s rather unfortunate. I had scheduled a stroll through the gardens with her.”

Lady Stark’s eyes widened as she turned to her servant again, emphatically scribbling on her parchment. “Lady Eddara sincerely apologizes for any inconvenience her sister has caused you. She believes Lyanna may somehow have missed your message, and that is why she left to explore,” the maid read.

 _Eddara._ So that was her name.

It was a boldfaced lie, Lady Eddara’s words. His servant would’ve told him if Lyanna hadn’t received his message, but Rhaegar cannot blame the girl for trying, on behalf of her sister. He decided to play along, for the lady’s sake, for poor Eddara Stark had turned ashen at the realization that her sister had stood him up.

“How unfortunate indeed. I suppose we could always reschedule, though.” 

Eddara nodded, and a silence fell over the group.

“Lady Eddara, perhaps you should join me on my stroll. You can tell me a little bit about your sister then, if you’d like.” 

Lady Stark looked shocked, but the girl nodded hesitantly, fetching a light grey shawl before following him out the door.

**************

He didn’t know why he’d invited her. Eddara Stark was not one of the choices as a suitable queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and Rhaegar preferred to walk alone through the gardens anyways. It gave him some time to think, to be away from everyone else in the keep.

Either way, though, Lady Stark made very little noise, so he supposed it was fine. He had met ladies who could talk for hours and hours without pause, which wasn’t a bad thing he supposed, but Rhaegar preferred the peace and quiet.

He’d been through these gardens a hundred times, so instead he took the time to study the woman before him. 

She resembled her sister, with dark, onyx hair and a pale, slender face. Eddara’s eyes are a darker grey though, whereas Lyanna’s had been more bluish, and the older sister struck him as more willowy and graceful in stature than the younger one.

He cleared his throat and looked away quickly, lest the lady start to notice. “So, what can you tell me about your sister, my lady? What does she like?”

Her little bag bounced slightly against her thigh as she removed a sheet of blank parchment and a single quill. Rhaegar watched in fascination as Eddara wrote rapidly.

_Lyanna loves riding on her horse. She’s strong, with a will of steel. And if you ever get her a gift, bring her winter roses — they’re her favorite._

He coughed as the awkward silence stretched between them, broken only by the scratching of quill against parchment as Eddara scribbled something determinedly. 

He didn’t know why he could not think of a single sentence to say, or why their interactions felt so... out of place. Rhaegar knew politics, knew how to charm... but it's all rather difficult when the other person could not speak, could not respond immediately, and he felt a stab of pity.

“She sounds... different, your Lyanna.”

Eddara nodded before writing again. _She’s not a traditional lady. I cannot lie to you about that, your grace. But Lyanna is a strong woman, the strongest one I know, and I believe you’d like her if you got to know her. She has a deep sense of compassion and loyalty towards those she loves. She may seem prickly now, but that will change, in time._

Rhaegar smiled. If only he had the young woman’s confidence that Lyanna would indeed, at least try to speak with him. From what he had seen her, Lyanna was... nice, but she reminded him of a sweet summer child, with her wilfulness and naivete. 

Aerys’ court was for the winter wolf, not the summer sun. 

However, from Lady Eddara’s words, it was obvious that Lady Stark adored her younger sister.

“You two sound very close.”

She nodded. _My mother died when I was young, so I helped raise my younger siblings, Lyanna and Benjen, and to an extent even Brandon. The four of us were inseparable in Winterfell._

He sensed a wistfulness in her words, in the way she stopped ever so slightly before writing her siblings names and smiled as she finished writing the name of her home.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a mother must’ve been hard, especially at such a young age.” Sympathy filled Rhaegar’s heart as he’s suddenly reminded of the miserable position of his own mother, who is a living husk of what she used to be when he was younger.

Thinking of Rhaella only hardened Rhaegar’s resolve to destroy Aerys, once and for all.

 _Your grace? Are you alright? You look a bit pale,_ Lady Stark wrote, looking concerned.

“I’m alright, my lady. Thank you for asking.” 

He turned towards her at the end of the path, bowing.

“Thank you for accompanying me, Lady Stark. I hope to meet your sister sometime soon.”

She curtsied. 

_I hope for that as well, your grace._

**************

_Lyanna, I cannot believe you._

Lyanna rolled her eyes as Eddara scowled at her. 

“Loosen up, Ned. I missed a stroll with the prince, it’s not as if I’ve murdered someone.”

Although the way Eddara was looking at her, Lyanna might as well have.

“It’s not my fault,” Lyanna protested. “I was going to be back in time to walk with the prince, I swear, but I happened to run across that idiot Robert Baratheon, and we got in a fight because I beat him in a horse race in Flea Bottom.”

Well, actually, she had no intention of returning to the Red Keep long before Robert had shown up, but what her older sister didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

_I hope you weren’t being rude to Lord Robert. He was very nice, the last time we saw him._

“Why do you think I was the one being rude? I wasn’t! He was the one being an arrogant arse who couldn’t handle losing to a girl!” Lyanna declared triumphantly.

_And that is no excuse for missing your opportunity to spend some time with the prince. I talked to him, Lyanna, and he seems like a good man, if a bit distant and melancholy at times. Like his mind is always focused on something else._

_Either way, he is the prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Father is counting on you to become his queen._

“That’s easy for you to say, Ned. You’re mute! You get to stay in Winterfell your whole life! You don’t have to be traded away like a pawn in a game of cyvasse, all for father’s southron ambitions.”

Lyanna felt bad as soon as she uttered the words and her sister’s face fell. “I’m sorry Ned. I didn’t mean that.” 

_I know, Lya. I know._

A weary expression crossed Eddara’s face, and Lyanna instantly felt guilty. She never wanted to trouble her older sister, and yet everywhere she went she seemed to end up causing trouble anyway.

_Lady Cersei invited us for tea tomorrow. Just don’t miss this one._

Lyanna groaned. An entire afternoon with Cersei?

She’d rather marry the prince.

**************

“I’m so delighted you could make it, Princess Elia.”

“Thank you for hosting us, Lady Cersei.” 

Cersei gave her a frigid kiss on the cheek, sporting a fake smile that didn’t reach her eyes. 

That was all right. Elia hadn’t expected to become friends with Cersei anyway. They were, after all, the two girls that had the best chance of winning Rhaegar’s hand. 

_You must befriend the other girls, Elia,_ Loreza had told her. _View them as your present competitors and future allies. A queen will need powerful allies in her court._

“Aleyrie! Denyse, Leyla, it’s good to see you again!” Elia made her way over to the Hightowers, who had been entirely congenial towards her so far. They were sweet girls, the Hightowers, even if they did have their heads in the clouds a little too often.

“Princess Elia,” Aleyrie greeted with a warm smile. She didn’t get a chance to finish the rest of her sentence, though, because two other girls joined the gathering. 

“Those are the Stark girls. The one with the dark grey eyes is Eddara; she’s the mute girl. And the other one is Lyanna, she’s rather pretty, isn’t she?” Denyse mused. “Although she’s a bit wild, that one. Rumour has it she was racing through the streets of King’s Landing on her horse just the other day, I can’t imagine the prince would want to have to deal with that for a wife.”

Elia rolled her eyes. Denyse was a terrible gossip, but she was also excellent for finding information about people. 

“I’m going to greet them,” Elia said suddenly, walking over to them purposefully. Cersei had already welcomed them briefly, although the golden-haired girl was shooting Eddara nasty looks from the corner.

“I invited her sister, not _her_ ,” Cersei whispered loudly to Lysa Tully, as her gaggle of girls broke out into giggles. The older Stark flushed, clearly having heard the remark, but Elia reached her before she could turn around and leave.

“Lady Eddara! Lady Lyanna. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

The two Starks quickly curtsied as Lyanna said politely, “No, I don’t believe we’ve met. You look very pretty, Princess.”

Elia’s smile grew wider. “Come, join me on the other side of the table for tea.”

She linked her arms around the elbows of both of the Starks, before leaning in towards Eddara and whispering, “Don’t let Cersei bother you, Lady Stark. The girl can be cruel to anyone she doesn’t like. Let her words go in one ear, and out the other.”

Eddara shot her a grateful smile as they took their places, and Elia was glad she had managed to cheer up the girl somewhat. Besides, the princess could hardly understand why Cersei was being so rude in the first place; Eddara wasn’t even her competition. Perhaps that was merely the girl’s nature.

“So, Elia, you have to tell us about the prince. You’re the only one who’s gotten to spend any time with him yet!” Janna declared excitedly, and all eyes landed on the princess, who took it in stride.

“He’s very charming,” Elia admitted, to the sighs of the girls around her. “Kind and thoughtful... but I’m sure you’ll get to meet him soon, Janna.” 

“I hope so. I talked to him a little at the feast, but it was hardly a conversation, and he’s just so _handsome._ ”

Lyanna snorted. “He looks more beautiful than handsome, if you ask me. I wonder if he’s ever been mistaken for a girl— ow!” Lya glared at her older sister, rubbing her foot, as the other ladies shot her scandalized expressions. 

Elia, though, couldn’t stop herself from letting out a little chuckle. The Stark girl had a sense of humour, she’d give her that. 

Cersei cleared her throat. “Well, _I’m_ going to be meeting with the prince later in the afternoon. He’s promised to show me the gardens, just like he showed you, princess.” Cersei smiled smugly, as if to say, _See? You’re not special._

Two could play that game.

“He’s waited this long? I’m surprised he hasn’t contacted you earlier, Lady Cersei, I thought you had gotten along well at the feast earlier.”

Maegelle Frey sucked in a breath, the other ladies staring at the two of them as if watching a sword match. 

“We did.” Cersei gritted her teeth, and the tension is finally broken by Bethany Redwyne, who mentioned that she had never been to King’s Landing before, and asked if anyone could tell her their favorite things to see. 

Elia lifted her cup of tea, tilting it slightly towards the haughty Lannister girl who sat across from her on the other side of the table in a silent acknowledgement. 

Next to her, Lady Eddara wondered if perhaps she and Lyanna had been better off not attending, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this took a while, I was updating my other female Ned fic. Basically, Elia has arrived, and Ned and Rhaegar have an actual conversation. Of course, at this point, they don’t even know each other, and just have fleeting impressions of one another. But that will change...


	4. We Meet Again

Eddara smoothed out her sister’s periwinkle dress before finally nodding in approval. Yes, _this_ would do.

“Are you done fussing, Ned? Honestly, I don’t know why we had to go and buy all those new dresses yesterday, we spent hours in that merchant’s shop,” Lyanna huffed, tugging at one of her itchy sleeves.

_You needed new dresses, and besides, you look beautiful, Lya._

Lyanna rolled her eyes. “I’m only doing this for you, Ned.”

This time, it was Eddara’s turn to roll her eyes. _No, you’ve only agreed to spend an hour attending court because I promised you we’d spend an extra hour exploring King’s Landing in the evening. ___

__“A deal’s a deal!” Lyanna exclaimed happily, twirling her sister around in her own dark blue gown before skipping down the hallway, the ends of her frock trailing behind her._ _

__Ned could not help but feel invigorated by her sister’s own energy, a smile crossing her face as she chased after her._ _

A smile which quickly turned into a frown as they entered the throne room. The Mad King was sitting on the throne today, his eyes narrowed at nearly everyone in suspicion.

Eddara turned to make some remark or the other, when she realized that Lyanna had already fled her side.

Seven hells, where had she run off to now?

A quick scan of the room revealed that Lya was already chatting with some Hightower — that didn’t surprise her. Lyanna had always been sociable.

If only she could be sociable with the _prince._

Rhaegar was a decent man, Eddara mused idly. Atleast, he had seemed like one, when she had joined him for a stroll through the gardens the other day.

Apparently, he had done the same with Cersei Lannister though, as the golden haired girl was already gossiping to the Tyrell sisters about it. Eddara could hear snippets of their conversation from where she stood — although, she had a feeling that Lady Cersei was making no effort to keep her time with the prince a secret.

Brandon was talking to Ser Barristan, and Princess Elia was conversing with a Redwyne, Eddara guessed from the sigil on her dress. Rhaegar was nowhere to be found, no doubt managing the kingdom — there are whispers that it was the prince who ruled in his father’s stead. Ned would not be surprised if the rumors were true.

It suddenly struck her that she was rather alone in the middle of the room. Everyone else conversed around her, as Eddara merely crossed her arms, shifting awkwardly. 

Atleast in Winterfell, she had always relied on her books and the servants’ stories to entertain herself. Here... she suddenly felt alone, and while that was hardly a foreign feeling to her, there was a coldness that accompanied it which she wasn’t familiar with.

The lords and ladies stared at her, whispering as they noted her prescence, and she almost felt naked in front of them, their intrusive stares making her skin crawl, their silent eyes judging her every breath. 

_Poor Eddara Stark, the girl with no voice._

It reminded Ned of when she was younger and her father had forced her to attend court in Winterfell. She would sneak off to the godswood nearly in tears when he wasn’t looking. The beautiful ladies had shunned her, and the rest had pitied her, but all of them had judged.

Aerys’ gaze landed on her for a mere moment, hard, violet eyes boring into hers as if he would rip her apart with only his stare, and it was enough for her to spin on her heel, all but running out of the hall.

She needed to _escape._

****************

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for her to get lost in the enormous castle. 

Eddara walked around, bewildered by her unfamiliar surroundings, and wondering if she should really ask one of the guards for help finding her quarters, when she suddenly laid eyes on a golden harp.

It stood in the center of a room filled with an assortment of other musical instruments. Cautiously, Eddara entered the room, her heart thumping as she spied a dusty violin in the corner of the music room, from the looks of it.

Gently, she picked it up, threading the bow between the strings and taking a breath, her muscles relaxing as she acclimated herself with the instrument.

Eddara closed her eyes, allowing the bow to then slip between her fingers as she played her violin. Dance and music were the two forms of expression that didn’t require any talking at all, and she had always loved the two for it, which is why she had asked her septa to teach her in Winterfell.

As she played, her worries drifted away. There were no evil kings or haughty ladies, not here — there was just the _music._

***************

“I do not understand. Why does Lord Celtigar hesitate? Aerys has raised taxes on the Crownlands by nearly half just last year, and you have all of the other lords’ sworn support.”

“Patience, Arthur. We always knew a rebellion would not come easy,” Rhaegar assured his dearest friend, but he could not stop the frown that crossed his face. As the Prince of Dragonstone, he had counted on having the Crownlands’ support; especially since Aerys had spent little time with the houses that had historically been Targaryen allies.

Still, Rhaegar could not blame Lord Celtigar for having his doubts; it was treason, after all. 

“Let me send another letter to him, and if worst comes to worst, I’ll pay him a visit in a couple days.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” Arthur frowned. “You have to be careful, Rhaegar. If you let the wrong person get wind of your plans...”

“I know, Arthur. Believe me, I know.”

He’s about to say something else, when suddenly, he heard a sound. A melody which stopped him in his tracks, as the sweet sound of music filled his ears. 

“Rhaegar?”

Arthur was shooting him an amused look, and the Silver Prince suddenly realized he had already started walking in the direction of the sound. 

“Arthur, tell my father that I’ll be delayed at court.”

The other man nodded, as Rhaegar walked briskly, searching for the source of the sound. 

It’s coming from his music room, he realized, and whomever is in there is playing so beautifully he cannot find it in himself to be angry. Not when he hears a song of love and loss so similar to the ones he played on his own instrument.

He finally reached the room, and to his everlasting surprise, it was the Stark girl once more. 

She was lost in her music, idly spinning around with the violin in her hands, finishing off the tune with a crescendo of intermittent high notes.

The bow stilled in her hand, and Eddara opened her eyes, a smile on her face, when she heard a clap. And then another clap, and then another.

“Lady Stark, we meet again.”

***************

She nearly jumped upon hearing the voice, only relaxing when she realized who it belonged to.

Rhaegar Targaryen stared at her with an inscrutable expression on his face, something that vaguely resembled grudging admiration coupled with confusion. “You play beautifully. Better than most of the bards that walk through the gates of the Red Keep.”

She hesitated, and then bowed, knowing no other way to express her gratitude.

“Who taught you to play?”

Ned took out her parchment once more, writing her answer in the deep blue ink, and he stepped forward to read it.

_My septa taught me, initially. Later, I taught myself to play the more complicated pieces._

The prince raised a silver eyebrow. “As did I.”

He paused, before continuing, “Was that a northern melody? It was not familiar to me.”

_It is, your grace. I used to play it all the time at home after dinner, it was my family’s favorite,_ Eddara answered, a wistful expression crossing her face. 

_The servants always preferred the more lively tunes, though._

“Your servants?” Rhaegar shot her an amused look.

Ned nodded, smiling fondly. _A tale for a song. That was how our dinners usually went. I would call a servant to tell me some story from their youth, and then I would play my violin for them._

The prince shook his head. “We don’t really do that in the South, although I wish we did. I can only imagine all the stories you’ve heard.”

_More than I can remember, your grace, and some that I doubt your mother would’ve wanted you to hear as a child._

He’s not sure, but he almost think her words are a little teasing, from the way she flicks her wrist when tracing the tail of the “y” in “you,” to the way the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, ever so slightly, cracking her usually composed, solemn demeanor.

He rather liked Lady Stark’s smile. She had seemed more a shadow than a maiden to him with that permanent, somber expression on her face, but the smile brightened her countenance. 

“You must tell me your northern stories sometime. And mayhaps teach me some northern tunes as well — I play the harp, and I wouldn’t mind learning a few new melodies.”

For some reason, her expression immediately became closed off at Rhaegar’s jesting tone.

_I’m sure Lyanna wouldn’t mind telling you the tales we’ve heard, your grace. Perhaps... perhaps you could join us tomorrow, when we explore King’s Landing. I’m sure you know the city quite well, by now._

Her words seemed more rigid, almost mechanical now, as if she was playing a part, albeit somewhat reluctantly. He could sense it in the tightness of her arms, her fingers lacking any of the playful movements of before as she wrote on her parchment.

“Would it be alright if I joined you some other time? I may have some business to take care of in the next few days that requires my urgent attention.”

_Of course, your grace._

“I was going to attend court today, would you like me to escort you there?”

He held out a hand, but Ned shook her head. _I think I’d just like to return to my chambers, although I’m afraid I’m quite lost._

“I’ll take you there,” he said immediately, even though he didn’t have to and it certainly would’ve been simpler to ask a guard.

Playing with the kind of precision that Eddara played with took skill, and it had been far too long before he had had a proper conversation with someone who shared his love of music. 

And one who could not make a single sound herself, at that. 

Lady Stark was quite the enigma, indeed.

***************

“Where did you disappear off to anyway?” Lyanna questioned later, as they walked down to the dining hall for dinner. 

_Nowhere,_ Eddara shrugged, even though she had to fight to keep a smile off her face at the memory. Tales of Rhaegar’s skill with a harp spread far and wide, so to hear such high praise from the prince himself had been quite something.

They entered the hall, a cacophony of sound reaching Eddara’s ears as nobles conversed around them. 

“Lady Stark! Over here!”

Eddara turned, surprised someone would call her, and even more surprised to see that it was Lysa Tully.

It is Lyanna’s hand, though, that Lysa grabbed, tugging her towards a large group of minor ladies vying for the prince’s hand and Cersei.

“Ned! Help!” Lyanna hissed, reaching out for her sister’s hand in vain as Lysa tugged her along, her form disappearing behind gowns of velvet and taffeta as Eddara silently chuckled at the expression on her sister’s face. 

She had a feeling Lyanna would need some wine after all of this was over.

Eddara went over to their table, nodding to Brandon before walking over to a large tapestry. 

Quickly glancing around her, Ned noticed that no one was looking her direction, so she quickly ducked under it. Behind the tapestry lay a window ledge which she had noticed previously, a perfect place to sit undisturbed.

“Hello.”

Eddara jumped, her heart nearly flying out of her chest as a young, blonde haired boy peered up at her, a book clutched in his hands.

Ah. It would appear she had run into Tyrion Lannister.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, scowling at her.

She wrote on her parchment once more, _Trying to get some peace and quiet._

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed at her, before he suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! You must be the mute girl.”

As if suddenly realizing he had sounded rather blunt, Tyrion flushed, but his eyes never left hers. “Not that that’s a bad thing. I mean, I’m a dwarf, so I’m not really in any position to judge.”

He scooted over, easily making room for the two of them to fit on the ledge, a silence settling between them.

“Well, you’re quite the conversationalist, aren’t you?” Tyrion quipped, and if anyone else had said it Eddara would’ve known it to be an insult, but there was a childish spark in Tyrion’s eyes that informed her it was purely in jest.

_I’m sorry, which one of us can actually speak and is still hiding behind the tapestry with his head in a book?_ , she wrote, and Tyrion’s smile grew wider.

“I think you might be the first tolerable person I’ve met so far, Lady Stark.”

_A high honor indeed,_ she nodded sarcastically.

Tyrion’s next words were interrupted by a high, sweet sound, drifting through the air, and Tyrion frowned.

“What was that?” 

Ned stepped down from the ledge, sneakily stepping out from behind the tapestry, before writing furiously.

_It’s Prince Rhaegar. He’s playing the harp._

“I wonder if he’s as good as everyone says,” Tyrion mused, stepping down as well to listen to the performance. 

The silver prince was seated on a pedestal with a golden harp in his hands, a gaggle of ladies in front of him. 

He played — and he took Eddara’s breath away.

She felt the pain in his harmony, bleeding through every note, a melancholiness which seemed to seep into her bones.

He played a tune of fallen kings and lost wars, a melody of destruction and darkness leaving nothing behind but a single ray of light, encompassed by the sole high note between intermittent low ones.

It wasn’t just her; everyone was entranced by the prince’s song. Eddara saw Lyanna discreetly wipe a tear from her face, looking at the prince in a way she never had before. Princess Elia gazed upon him in wonder, and even Cersei seemed moved, her features softening somewhat at the endlessly hopeless tune. 

He ended it, far too soon in Ned’s opinion, and was met with thunderous applause. 

“Enough weeping! Play a dancing tune, your grace!” Robert requested, his eyes set on one of the young ladies surrounding the prince, although Eddara could not pinpoint whom it was.

“As you wish, cousin,” Rhaegar chuckled, before quickly starting a fast-paced melody that had every lady on her feet, spinning in a circle in the center of the hall, even Eddara, who could not help but join in to the rhythm of the music. 

She spun, her mouth open in silent laughter as she flung out her arms over her gown, never noticing the violet eyed gaze that tracked her lively movements with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s a second meeting! Rhaegar and Eddara’s conversation flows a little more naturally this time around since they’ve somewhat become more acclimated to one another, and the focus is going to shift to the relationship between these two characters, although many others will still appear(Elia, Cersei, Lyanna, Robert, etc)!
> 
> Tell me what you guys think so far!


	5. Ned

“How was your journey, your grace?”

“It is always nice to see my home, Lady Cersei. And the trip was a success — in more ways than one. Thank you for asking,” Rhaegar responded, as the blonde girl walking alongside him favored the prince with a gentle smile. 

“Of course, Dragonstone is said to be a castle unlike any other. Although, your grace, you should know that all the ladies at court have missed you terribly. Your skill with the harp is unparalleled — I have not been able to hear anything else but your song for the past few days when the bards sing at dinnertime.”

There’s a coyness in her words, in her gaze as she glanced up at him. 

“I can play another tune for you tonight at dinner if you wish, my lady.”

Her eyes flashed with _something_ — and for the first time, Rhaegar felt slightly unsettled, but the moment passed as quickly as it came, and Cersei’s soft countenance fell into place once more.

“I would be honored, your grace.” She curtsied, glancing back his way once more before turning to join her ladies in the throne room, the picture of elegance.

Lady Cersei was beautiful, there was no doubting it, and she had appeared to make friends quickly enough. She had been charming and nothing but pleasant to him since she’d arrived, and he had warmed to the girl — but there were some _rumours_ people said about Lady Cersei, about how she had a vicious streak. Rhaegar hoped it wasn’t true — he needed a wife who was strong, not ruthless.

“What troubles you, your grace?”

Princess Elia approached him, and he could’ve sworn he saw the sun in her eyes, for there was so much light and warmth in her gaze. He returned her smile with one of his own, turning to face her, his silver hair glimmering in the sunlight.

“Nothing, now that you are here, princess. The Dornish sun burns away the darkness, it would appear.”

“You’re too kind, Rhaegar.”

She’s testing the waters, calling him by his first name, but Rhaegar doesn’t mind. He had gotten to know Elia well in the few instances he’d seen her, and he’d learned to appreciate her Dornish fire, so different from his father’s own madness.

“How is Oberyn?” 

“He’s probably terrorizing one of the kingsguard knights. He’s always wanted to duel one, you know. Little brothers,” Elia sighed.

“I know. Viserys would not stop pestering Prince Lewyn the other day.”

Elia laughed. “They’re the kingsguard. I’m sure they must be used to the hero-worship.”

“Did you want to be a kingsguard, when you were younger?”

“No, I wanted to be a bard,” Rhaegar chuckled, and Elia burst into laughter. “A bard? Hmm, perhaps I’m not surprised. You would’ve stolen many a maiden’s heart as a bard, my prince.”

“Alas, it was not meant to be,” he mocked, a touch of sadness coloring his words. Elia seemed to pick up on it, because her expression suddenly became slightly serious. “No, you were meant to be a prince instead, and one day, you will be a great _king_.”

He nodded absentmindedly, appreciating the other woman’s sentiment and trying to ignore the shade of doubt that struck his heart. 

People had once said that about Aerys — and look how _he_ turned out.

***************

Eddara started at the light knock on her door.

“My lady, are you expecting anyone?” Her handmaiden, Jeyne, asked, shooting her lady a questioning look. 

Eddara shook her head, before motioning for Jeyne to open the door, closing the book in her hands and setting it aside.

Jeyne opened the door, and immediately bowed deeply. In front of her stood the Prince of Dragonstone, wearing a black doublet with a maroon sash. 

“Is Lady Eddara here?”

“Yes, your grace.” Jeyne stepped aside, and Eddara immediately stood up, curtsying once more before taking out her parchment.

“Lady Eddara. Forgive the intrusion, but I have just gotten back from Dragonstone.”

 _I hope your visit went well, your grace,_ Eddara remarked curiously. 

She wondered if he was here about the letters.

Ned didn’t know why he’d done it, but the prince had written to her on his trip, asking her a technical question about the song he’d heard her play which he attempting to replicate with his harp. They’d exchanged a few letters back and forth, all about a few southern and northern tunes that had become popular with the bards recently, and Eddara didn’t know quite what to make of it.

It would help Lyanna, she supposed, if the prince got along well with her family.

And mayhaps (although she’d never admit it) she liked discussing her music with someone that wasn’t her septa, just a little bit.

“It went well, thank you for asking, my lady. Now that I have returned, I thought perhaps we could see King’s Landing in the afternoon, since I believed I promised you I would show you and your sister the city.”

 _We would be honored, your grace._ She curtsied as he nodded, offering her a faint smile.

“I’ll see you then.”

****************

Rhaegar was surprised when he met the Stark girls later, only to find that both Lord Baratheon and their brother were accompanying them. 

“Cousin. Lord Stark.”

“Prince Rhaegar. I hope you do not mind that Robert and I are joining my sisters on your tour of the city.” Lord Brandon’s words were a statement, not a question, as he stepped a little closed to Lyanna, and Rhaegar merely nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. 

“Of course, Lord Brandon.” He rode forward on his horse, with Arthur riding next to him as the others trailed behind him on their own steeds as they left the Red Keep.

They rode onwards to the Great Sept of Baelor, and Rhaegar stopped his horse. “This is the center of the Faith of the Seven. Its construction was inspired by Baelor the Blessed, who had a vision—”

He paused upon hearing a slight commotion behind him. Turning around, he realized that no one was paying attention to him except for Arthur, who was watching him with an amused expression a slight distance away. 

Lyanna, it appeared, had already gotten into an argument with Lord Baratheon about something. 

“Obviously a sword is far superior to a war-hammer —”

“A warhammer has ten times the strength of a single blade—”

“Were you born this stupid or did you just become this way over time?” Lyanna snapped, and Rhaegar has to stifle a chuckle at his cousin’s obvious embarassment.

“A warhammer is a powerful weapon, Lya,” Brandon interjected. 

Lyanna slapped her brother upside the head. “Whose side are you on, Brandon?”

Rhaegar shook his head. If he did take Lyanna as his wife, he was certain he’d never be bored, but her antics... they’re almost childlike, and she is impulsive, quick to anger. She hardly seemed to want to be a lady, with her interest in weapons, so he doubted she would want to be a queen.

Suddenly, he noted the absence of Lady Eddara, and his eyes landed on the other girl, who was speaking softly to a small girl dressed in rags. 

She pulled a few coins from her satchel, dropping them into her palm before steering her horse towards the main group once more.

“You don’t have enough coins for all the smallfolk, Eddara,” Brandon reprimanded lightly, but Ned shot him a look before riding slightly ahead, refusing to respond to her older brother. 

Rhaegar tipped his head in recognition towards her; few lords and ladies cared for the smallfolk they were sworn to govern, but he was glad to find a kindred spirit in Lady Stark. 

They both rode ahead of the group, falling into a comfortable silence that was continuously intruded upon by their companions’ bickering.

Eddara, he noted, was oddly a part of, and yet seperate from her siblings. She would shake her head at their antics, but there was a distance between them, as if they had almost forgotten she was there. 

“It appears my tour of King’s Landing may not have been such a good idea after all,” Rhaegar murmured, addressing Lady Eddara.

She shook her head, taking out a piece of parchment from the bag attached to her saddle, as well as a quill.

_I’m sorry about my siblings, but I think your tour has been quite informative. I do not follow the Seven, but the Sept was beautiful._

“It is, isn’t it?”

He turned a corner, making his way towards the Winch Towers, which he was sure would interest his guests, as he and Eddara made some small talk about court.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed past his nose before he could blink, striking the wall of a brothel. 

“Rhaegar, get down!”

The Silver Prince heard screaming as men in black armour converged on the group, with smallfolk running away in fear.

Next to him, Arthur drew his silver sword, and he did the same, along with Brandon, while Robert gripped his war-hammer. Lyanna balled her fists, and Eddara rode over to her sister, with Lord Stark pushing both his sisters behind him. 

Seven men clothed in black surrounded them, swords in hand as they rode on their own steeds. 

And then, they attacked. 

Brandon, Robert, and Rhaegar each took one man at a time, while Arthur somehow managed to keep three at bay simultaneously. It isn’t long, though, before Robert smashed his hammer into his attacker’s chest with a roar before moving on to the seventh attacker.

The one facing Rhaegar appeared to be the most skilled, as he expertly dodged and parried Rhaegar’s blade. 

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up Rhaegar’s arm. One of Arthur’s opponents had broken away, taking his chance to slice his blade along the crown prince’s arm, as blood dripped from the wound. 

Rhaegar managed to thrust his blade into his initial opponent’s heart, shoving him away, but the attack costs him, as his second opponent easily disarmed him from behind, lifting his blade to strike him down.

He saw Arthur widen his eyes as he defeated one of his attackers, struggling to reach the prince, but they both knew he wouldn’t make it in time. 

But Lady Eddara did. 

Rhaegar saw a flash of silver in the raven haired woman’s hand, a fierce expression on her face as she stabbed his attacker in the arm, causing the man to drop his blade and cry out in pain.

His cry is soon silenced by Arthur’s blade, who immediately rode towards Rhaegar.

Lord Brandon finished off the last of their attackers, as Arthur asked concernedly, “Are you alright?”

“Not exactly, but I’ll manage,” Rhaegar grunted, holding his arm in an effort to stem the bleeding. 

“Come on, we have to ride back to the Red Keep,” Arthur said hastily, checking around if their were any more attackers before guiding their party back to the holdfast.

He saw smallfolk gasp when they gazed upon their bleeding prince as they race through the streets of King’s Landing, finally entering the gates of the keep. 

***************

“Bandits,” Arthur remarked, as Maester Pycelle finished wrapping Rhaegar’s arm in bandages. 

“I’ll need to change them in three hours, your grace.”

“I can change my own bandages, Maester Pycelle, thank you,” Rhaegar said curtly, dismissing the elder man until it was just him and Arthur left in the room. His closest friend shot him a frustrated look, placing his hand on his forehead.

“There have been rumors of bandits lurking at the edge of the towers to rob passing noblemen, I should’ve asked you to take another route—”

“Arthur, it’s alright. _I’m_ alright. You couldn’t have known this would happen.”

“My job is to stop something like this from happening, Rhaegar. Ser Gerold and I will ride tomorrow to root out the rest of the bandits, I promise you.”

“Good. The last thing we need right now is a bandit problem to deal with.”

Arthur nodded distractedly, moving to leave the room but not before shooting Rhaegar one last worried glance.

“Barristan’s agreed to stand guard over you until you recover.”

The prince frowned. “That’s not necessary. I’m not in danger, Arthur, it was a random group of bandits—”

“The kingsguard has already decided, Rhaegar. It’s not up for negotiation. Don’t forget — if you die, our hope dies with you.”

He shut the door at that, his words echoing in Rhaegar’s mind as he looked over the parchment documenting the crown’s finances in the past month. Rhaella visited him later with Viserys in tow, sliding her fingers through his silver curls and kissing his forehead softly before leaving once more with her ladies, promising to visit him the next day.

Hours later, he sighed, setting the parchment aside as he tried to unravel his bandages — a task that proved difficult with only one hand.

He considered calling Barristan into his chambers to aid him when suddenly the door opened.

And there stood Eddara Stark, looking slightly unsure of herself as she walked, parchment in hand, over towards the prince, who immediately pushed himself upright on his bed.

“Lady Eddara! I was not expecting... I told Barristan to keep everyone away from my chambers except my parents and Viserys.”

_Forgive me, my prince. I did not mean to intrude, but I only wished to confirm that you were alright after the attack, and Ser Barristan agreed to let me in since I had been with you at the initial fight._

“Yes, I’m — I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked after you and your siblings after the attack.”

_We’re fine, your grace. We’re not the ones that were stabbed._

Rhaegar chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.” He tugged at his bandage absentmindedly, loosening a few threads. 

Eddara frowned. _Do you need help with that?_

“No, it’s alright,” he insisted, tugging at the wrappings in a vain attempt to show her he could remove them himself, which only tangled them around his arm.

_Here, your grace. Let me help._

She leaned over, carefully loosening and undoing his bandages one by one.

Her grey eyes glimmered in the candlelight, which seemed to accentuate her sharp cheekbones, the paleness of her face contrasting with the inky black color of her hair.

Her skin, too, is impossibly soft against his, as she unwrapped his arm, her eyebrow creasing as she tugged and pulled.

It suddenly struck him that it was somewhat improper, a young lady of her station alone in his chambers, even if she was there out of kindness and there was a kingsguard at the door, so he cleared his throat, breaking out of his reverie.

“Thank you for your assistance, Lady Stark. I can take it from here.”

“And... thank you, Eddara, for everything. I may not be standing here without your intervention, and I owe you my life. Although, I am curious, how did you get a blade?”

Lady Stark smiled. _I always carry a dagger in my boot, your grace. One can never be too careful._

She moved to curtsy, but Rhaegar caught her arm, shooting her an amused glance. “You may call me Rhaegar, Lady Stark. At this point, I think we can move past formalities.”

Eddara smiled. _Then you may call me Ned. It is what all my siblings call me._

“Ned,” Rhaegar stated hesitantly. 

“Ned it is, then.”


	6. The Dragon Chamber

“Do you need anything milady?” 

_No, Jeyne, that’ll be all,_ Eddara wrote, smiling and dismissing the handmaiden she had brought with her from Winterfell. It was a shame that Jeyne was not a fellow lady, for Ned counted her as her closest friend outside of her own family, and relied on her a great deal.

She turned the next page of Maester Perestan’s Histories, only to hear the clearing of a throat. 

She looked up to see Jeyne shoot her a look that could be described as almost mischevious, as she gestured to the prince that stood next to her.

Rhaegar bowed perfunctorily, before greeting Ned with a soft smile as she curtsied once more. “Lady — err, Ned. I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you... is that Maester Perestan’s Histories?”

_It is, your — I mean, Rhaegar. I’ve been re-reading it._

The prince’s smile grew wider. “You like to read, then? You must recommend me something, I think I’ve read through my entire library atleast ten times by now.”

_Have you tried Age of Heroes by Maester Allendor? It’s one of my favorites._

“Of course I have! For the longest time, I was determined I would grow up to be Symeon Star-Eyes.”

_Really? I’ve always preferred Bran the Builder, but I am a Stark, I suppose._

The prince nodded. “I could see why. Anyways, I dropped by to tell you that I’m grateful for what you did, truly. Your quick thinking saved my life, and I don’t know how to repay you for that, but I know one way I can start. Would you follow me?”

She dipped her head, leaving her chambers with the prince, peering at him curiously as he led her through a flurry of passageways which she had never seen before.

Where was he taking her?

Her question was answered as she stepped into a large, austere room. She spied an ornate brazier in the shape of a dragon head’s head, its lit coals the only source of light, casting shadows around the room.

Her gaze hit the floor, and had she been able to speak, Eddara would’ve gasped. 

There is an intricate mosaic of a dragon in tiles the color of blood and ash, the most decorous she has ever seen. They do not have colored mosaics like this on the grey stone walls and floors of Winterfell, as much as she loves her home.

She traced the three headed dragon in awe. _It’s breathtaking. I’ve never seen anything like it._

The prince kneeled next to her. “I meant to show you the dragonpit on the tour the other day, but we never had the time, and my father’s demanded that I remain in the Red Keep for now, so I wanted to show you this instead.”

“I’m glad you like it. When I was younger, I would come down here all the time with my books, where my father wouldn’t find me. He... didn’t exactly approve of my favorite pastime.”

He placed his hand on one of the dragon’s heads, a melancholy look in his eyes. 

It was the first time Rhaegar had ever mentioned Aerys to anyone, as far as Eddara could remember. She could hear the bitterness in his tone... not that she blamed him. Ned couldn’t imagine having that madman as a father. 

_Well, I don’t understand why. A learned man would be a far better ruler than an unlearned one._

“Try telling that to the king.”

Rhaegar met her eyes, then. “I used to love reading — I still do, but as time passed, I grew to realize that some things were... more important.”

She felt a sadness for Rhaegar, in that moment. The prince talked like he carried the weight of the world in his shoulders, a burden too heavy to bear for any one man. 

_I’m sorry about that, Rhaegar, but I hope you know how highly people think of you. You don’t have to give up what you love for the sake of your duty as a prince._

The words tasted like dust in her mouth. She knew it wasn’t true, not really — duty had to come first, before anything. Her father had made her well aware of that, ever since she was a young child. 

The prince seemed to sense it, but he didn’t comment. “Thank you, Ned. I hope I don’t disappoint, when I become king.”

_You won’t. You’ll be a far greater king than Aerys ever was._

****************

Everyone tells the prince that, and yet, when Ned says it, somehow Rhaegar felt it to be true. She said it with such conviction, such certainty, that for a moment, his doubts were erased from his mind. 

Then, it clicked that she had made a rather treasonous statement. The thought must’ve occurred to her too, as she flushed, but Rhaegar placed his finger on his lips, a silent agreement passing between them. 

_Your secret is safe with me,_ Rhaegar seemed to say, communicating with nothing but his eyes.

Ned nodded. _Lyanna and Brandon don’t like reading much. They’ve always preferred swordplay. Fighters, the two of them._

There was fondness in Eddara’s words as she spoke of her siblings, and yet... 

“You speak frequently of your family, Ned, but rarely of yourself,” he mused.

_My family is far more interesting than I._

"Somehow, I doubt that." 

Ned shifted uncomfortably, moving a slight distance away from the prince, not meeting his gaze as her fingers weaved in between the cracks on the floor, the firelight reflecting in the prince’s irises as he awaited a response.

_I... my father and my siblings mean everything to me, I would give my life for theirs. I am nothing without them._

It’s true. Eddara knew it to be true. She was merely an extension of her family, and her highest duty has always been towards helping them as best as she can.

 _You’d be more helpful if you weren’t mute,_ a voice inside her whispered, and she dug her fingernails into her palm.

Rhaegar frowned. “That isn’t true. You’re... you’re a lot more than nothing, Eddara.”

_You don’t have to be kind. I — I know how people see me, since the day I was born. I know I have to make it up to my family, somehow, for failing them._

“There’s nothing to make up for. You — I’m sorry that you see yourself that way, but the Ned Stark that I’ve seen in the past few weeks? She is kind, polite, talented, and clever. You’re a lot more than you think you are — and I’d be honored to call you a friend.”

Rhaegar’s indignant tone caught her attention, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

It saddened him, that she seemed to believe that she was born defected somehow, as if her lack of a voice was a source of shame.

It wasn’t. Not when he looked at the size of her heart.

 _Thank you._ It’s all Ned could say, but she couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her face, her hand resting on the center of the dragon tiles. 

***************

Rhaegar opened his eyes, finishing the rest of the tune and plucking the final strings on his harp.

In front of him, Eddara Stark clapped, her grey eyes sparkling. _That was beautiful._

It had been a few days since their last meeting in the chamber, and he had invited the lady to listen to him play the harp, knowing how much she enjoyed music. 

_I wish I could play like you,_ Eddara wrote, wistfulness in her words.

“Let me teach you, then.”

The surprise on her face mirrored Rhaegar’s own at his words. And yet, he found that he didn’t mind the thought of teaching her. Music had always been something that he alone enjoyed, but he didn’t mind the thought of sharing it. 

Ned nodded hesitantly, and he gingerly set the harp in her arms. 

“Here, hold it like this.” He demonstrated the position, modifying the placement of her hands, before teaching her a few chords.

She followed his movements, her hands light as a feather, and it’s not until a sunray struck Rhaegar’s face that he realized that they had been in his music room for hours. 

“We should probably be going,” he suggested, to which Ned agreed, lifting herself off the stool. 

_I’d like to continue learning to play... if it isn’t a bother._

“Of course not. Until we meet again, Ned.”

He bowed, for the first time knowing that their next meeting was not a coincidence or a possibility, but a certainty.

***************

In the next few weeks, Rhaegar was as busy as ever. When he wasn’t meeting the other ladies, he was writing letters to every lord he could think of that would lend their support.

And when he wasn’t occuppied with that, he found himself spending more time with Ned, teaching her how to play his favorite instrument. She was actually quite good — not that he was surprised.

Although, he wished sometimes that their conversation wasn’t as stilted as it was. Everytime Ned wanted to respond to something Rhaegar said, she had to rely on her parchment.

Then, he saw her one day in court, moving her hands in a strange mix of positions, her parchment nowhere to be seen as she appeared to be carrying on a conversation with her sister.

He asked her about it later, and she’d smiled, telling him about a language of hand signs that she’d developed to communicate with her siblings.

“Could you teach me your hand signs?” he’d asked then, in the middle of her harp lesson.

She stared at him, looking slightly shocked. _Why?_

“It — I want to able to talk to you, in some way, without relying on a paper. It would make things easier — especially for our lessons.”

Eddara blinked, her face betraying no emotion. After what seemed like an eternity, she dipped her head.

_Alright. I’ll teach you._

***************

It was hard, picking up her silent language.

It was easy to pick up the common greetings like hello, but after a week it got difficult to remember and recall every word he’d learned. He persisted though, the thought of fully being able to communicate with Ned keeping him going.

A lesson in hand signs for a lesson in the harp is usually how it went, and he found himself learning more about Eddara than he would’ve expected.

She adored her family above all things, and was mindful of her duty towards them, but he knew that she also missed her home, as she told him of Winterfell’s snowy peaks and icicles covering the trees in her godswood.

Ned missed her people too, it seemed, since she told him of her frequent visits to orphanages in Winter town, and now, apparently, she’d taken to visiting the orphans of King’s Landing.

She saw his people the way that he saw them; not as rats to be stepped on by men who played their games of intrigue and power, but people who were unfortunate enough to be born smallfolk instead of lords. People who they had a sworn duty to protect.

He couldn’t imagine that she approved of Aerys, then, but she was wise enough not to mention his father when she spoke of the commoners.

He liked to visit them sometimes, down in Flea Bottom, as he does today, with Ser Barristan trailing behind him, their large cloaks covering the swords hooked to the belts on their waists.

He entered a tavern with the kingsguard knight in tow, pausing to silently observe the smallfolk who would one day be his future subjects. 

He saw barmaids rushing to fetch drinks, men laughing and jeering at some unfortunate bard who was attempting to play “Jenny of Oldstones.”

Rhaegar walked up to the front of the room, politely asking the bard if he could borrow his harp as Barristan sighed behind him. Rhaegar knew the kingsguard did not approve of his illicit visits to Flea Bottom, especially after the attack, but there was little the knight could do to stop him. Besides, Rhaegar liked it here, liked being close to the people and connected to them without them ever knowing. 

A good king must know the hearts and minds of those he governs, his tutor had once told him. A good man, executed by Aerys for filling his heir’s head with “treasonous thoughts,” but Rhaegar never forgot the lessons he had taught him. 

And so, he sang, to a room full of people who were perfectly unaware that they were in the prescence of the future King of the Seven Kingdoms. His lilting voice drew a hushed breath, as silence settled over the room, only breaking when Rhaegar finished with his forlorn tune, coins thrown his way from every direction.

The dragon prince turned to smirk at Barristan, only to realize that the other knight was conversing with a young lady in a dark grey cloak.

Ser Barristan? Talking to a woman? Well, _that_ was certainly suspicious. 

Rhaegar stepped off his stool, handing the harp back before curiously walking over to the couple, a shocked look overtaking his features as he realized who the mysterious young woman was.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises?”

Ned smiled, not looking the least bit surprised to see him. 

_I knew it had to be you, as soon as I heard the voice. I was walking back from the orphanage when I heard you singing, I think the entire street stopped to listen,_ Eddara wrote, a jest in her eyes.

“You’re here alone?” Rhaegar frowned.

_I often come here alone, Rhaegar. The guards usually have their hands full with Lyanna._

“Well, that won’t do. Have a drink with me, Ned.” He gestured for her to sit down next to him in a nearby table, pulling over a chair for her and Barristan.

She sat, but the knight waved his hand, a small smile on his face as he said he’d keep an eye on them from afar and scout out the area.

_So, is sneaking out of the Red Keep a habit of yours?_

“It has been since I was young. I like it here, the people, the liveliness... and sometimes I just need to be away from Aerys. Away from court, really.”

_Away from all their judging eyes and expectations?_

He blinked, staring at the parchment in disbelief. It was as if she’d read his mind.

“Sometimes,” he mused, as one of the maids delivered their drinks, “I wonder what it would’ve been like if I’d been born ordinary. What would I have been? A maester? A soldier?”

“What do you think you’d have been, if you hadn’t been born a lady? Or, perhaps, if you decided to give up the life of a lady, and I the life of a prince?”

He half expected her to laugh, but she doesn’t, her eyebrows furrowed in thought, before a lightness filled her countenance once more.

 _We'd be the ministrels of Maidenpool,_ Eddara wrote.

_I’d play my violin and you'd play your harp, and we'd become bards, playing in some dimly lit tavern._

The prince shook his head. "Well, if you wanted to scandalize all seven kingdoms, that would be the way to do it."

They shared a laugh, Eddara shaking silently in laughter as Rhaegar's chuckles filled the room.

He tipped his glass against hers before taking a drink, a warm sensation tingling across his skin at the sight of Eddara’s laughing eyes, which he decided to blame on the wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, this wasn’t my best chapter, but things will start picking up from here! To summarize, Rhaegar and Ned are basically getting to know each other better as friends, and I kind of wanted to show here that Ned, for all her good qualities, has a pretty low self-esteem, partly because of her disability. Although, a certain someone is certainly teaching her to break out of her shell...


	7. A Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aerys is being his usual psychopathic self, and Lyanna plays accidental matchmaker.

Eddara found herself searching the throne room for the prince, as Lyanna and Robert argued next to her. 

She found him easily enough, standing off to the side near the throne his father sat upon, his silver hair glistening in the sunlight as he spoke to the Tyrell girls and Cersei Lannister, with Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne not too far behind. 

He looked up briefly, acknowledging her with the quickest of glances, when suddenly, the door opened. 

Two guards dragged in a man in tattered rags, who twisted in their grip. “Please, please! I didn’t do anything!”

The court broke out in whispers, with nobles running out of the way and rushing to the sides as the peasant was dragged before the king. 

Eddara’s stomach roiled at the sight of the man with cuts bleeding across his back. 

“Your grace, we found him attempting to steal some coins from one of the knights of the City Watch.”

“Is that so?”

The king, usually quiet, had a cruel smile on his face, his yellowing teeth visible. “Attempting to steal from the City Watch... why, that’s quite a serious crime indeed.”

“Your grace, I didn’t do it, I swear—”

“I think execution would be the fitting punishment. After all, you let one man get away with a crime, and a dozen more will follow him,” Aerys declared, his eyes sweeping over the courtroom. The lords and ladies hastily bowed their heads in agreement, murmuring of the king’s great wisdom. 

Ned thought she was going to be sick.

They tied the man to a stake in the middle of the room, and one guard raised a torch, eliciting gasps and cries of alarm from several ladies. It was then that Eddara realized that the king intended to utilize his favorite method of execution: fire.

If she was more reckless, she would’ve run towards the peasant who was already begging for his life and pleaded with the king for mercy, for a proper trial. As it was, Eddara leaned forward, her heart in her throat, wanting to but unable to move.

Everyone was silent, the room filling with Aerys’ cackles and the young man’s screams. She watched in horror as his body was engulfed in flames, and flinched at Brandon’s cool touch as he placed a hand on her arm. 

“I think you should go, Ned.”

Her brother looked at her concernedly, and Ned didn’t bother to argue with him, discreetly exiting the throne room before breaking out into a full sprint.

The world around her dissolved into a whirlwind of color and light as she raced through the passageways, and somehow she wound up in the godswood, kneeling in front of a weirwood tree, staring emptily at the face carved into it.

“Ned?”

She turned around, jumping at the sound of the face. It was Rhaegar, a troubled look in his indigo eyes, the red fabric of his tunic sweeping across the grass as he sat down next to her.

“Are you alright?”

Eddara shook her head. How could she be alright after what she had just seen? How could he, for the matter?

“I... I’ve learned to control myself, over the past few years. Pretend like it doesn’t bother me every time it happens so that he won’t suspect anything. But... it does.”

She said nothing, taking out her parchment once more.

_Why didn’t you do anything?_

The prince winced. “I wish I could, but Aerys is still the king, Eddara.”

“One day, he won’t be, though. One day, I will be king, and I promise, it will be different. And hopefully, that one day will come sooner than we think.”

She looked at him curiously, no judgement in her gaze for his treasonous sentiment. 

_Well, I certainly hope that day is sooner rather than later._ It’s all she wrote, but she tipped her head slightly in his direction as she did so. It’s clear, from his statement and other things he’s said to her, that Rhaegar wasn’t happy with his father, and he may even be trying to... deal with the situation, somehow.

Ned wouldn’t pry, but... she wished him success, if he was planning what she thought he might be. 

The corners of Rhaegar’s mouth twitched upwards. “Don’t we all?”

They sat there then, staring at the weirwood tree, a comfortable silence falling over them. 

“I used to come down here as a child, quite frequently. It was the one place I always knew I could be alone,” the prince spoke up. 

_I visited the godswood quite often to pray back in Winterfell. I’m surprised you even have one in King’s Landing, all the southerners follow the Seven don’t they?_

Rhaegar nodded, shrugging his shoulders. 

Slowly, he got up. “We should probably go back, before people start to wonder where we went.”

Eddara nodded, writing, _Thank you. For staying with me._

The prince smiled, before hesitantly lifting his hand, his fingers waving in the air.

_You’re welcome, Ned._

Eddara clapped her hand over her mouth. _You signed!_

Rhaegar dipped his head modestly. 

“I’ve been practicing.”

***************

“Are you alright?”

It was the first question that Lyanna asked her when she returned to her quarters. 

Eddara nodded, hastily pulling on a light blue gown for the feast in the evening. _Of course. Are you?_

Lyanna hesitated, then nodded. “I mean, it was horrific, of course, but given what we’ve heard about the king, it’s not exactly surprising.” Her sister wrinkled her nose at the thought of that wretched old man, laughing as someone burned to death right in front of him. 

“I don’t know how the queen stands him, though.”

Rhaella was a strong woman indeed, Ned thought, looking at the pregnant queen as the two walked into the dining hall. It wasn’t long, though, before she and Lyanna were pulled aside by Rhonda Rowan over to where the gaggle of the prince’s suitors sat.

“He was so thoughtful,” Alerie Hightower sighed, fluttering her eyes as the girls around her listened to every word. Only Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne looked amused, whereas Cersei was giving the girl a rather scornful look. 

“Apparently, Rhaegar went on a stroll with Lady Alerie a few days past and she hasn’t been able to shut up about it since,” Lyanna remarked, rolling her eyes. Ned stared at her sister in surprise. Since when did Lyanna know more about court gossip than her? Well, Eddara supposed she had been busy the past few days, but still. She was here to get the prince to marry Lyanna, after all. 

The prince that had barely mentioned Lyanna’s name once in their last few encounters, Ned realized, a frown clouding her features, her father’s words echoing in her ears. 

She didn’t have much time to think on it, though, before Lady Ashara touched her arm. “Are you alright? I saw you leave the room in the morning during the execution.”

Eddara nodded uncomfortably, realizing that the girls’ eyes were suddenly on her. 

“It was hard to sit through,” Lady Cersei admitted, spying a way to jump into the conversation. “But nevertheless, it’s something a _queen_ is expected to know how to do.”

Lady Redwyne frowned. “I certainly hope not. That was horrible to see, I nearly fled the scene myself.”

Ned flushed. Was she the only one who had left, then? The only one who hadn’t been able to stomach it and compose herself?

“I’m sure Rhaegar will rule differently,” Elia piped up suddenly, and Cersei narrowed her eyes, before smiling a sickly sweet smile.

“And if he doesn’t? Will you flee the room too, like Lady Eddara?”

Ned winced and Lyanna growled next to her.

“No, but I would certainly counsel him against burning someone alive,” Elia retorted, the rest of the ladies falling silent now, watching the the lady and the princess. 

Cersei rolled her eyes. “Why? Sometimes the smallfolk need a firm reminder, and besides, it’d probably just alienate him if you argued over something like that. Better to advise him on other things.”

The scratching of quill against parchment caught everyone’s attention as Ned thrust her paper in the other lady’s hands. 

_There’s a difference between a firm reminder and burning someone alive, Lady Cersei. Anyways, Rhaegar would never do something like that._

“Oh because you know him so well, right Lady Eddara?” Cersei sneered, ripping the parchment as Lysa snickered next to her.

The taunting expression melted off her face as the prince strode over though, replaced with a teasing smile, as the ladies giggled and cleared a path for him. 

“Ladies,” Rhaegar bowed, as they all collectively curtsied. 

“I was going to play Jenny of Oldstones on the harp again, but I wanted someone on the violin with me, and I was wondering if one of you might be up to it?”

There was a clamor of voices which immediately turned into a whisper, as few ladies played the instrument, and none were as proficient in it as Rhaegar was in the harp. Certainly, none of them wanted to mess up when playing with the prince of all Seven Kingdoms.

“I can sing, your grace,” Princess Elia stepped forward. 

“As can I!” Cersei chimed in, and the clamor started up again, with more ladies claiming that they could sing if he wanted, until Lyanna casually remarked, “My sister’s been playing the violin since she was little, your grace. She can play with you.”

Eddara frantically shook her head, wishing she could slap Lyanna upside the head for her foolishness. She couldn’t play with _him_ , and definitely not _here_...

“Why not, my lady?” He asked, holding out a hand, his indigo eyes glancing at her grey orbs in amusement. 

Oh, he thought this was funny, did he?

“Certainly I haven’t done anything to offend you?” The other ladies giggled at his jesting tone, for how could the prince have done anything offensive to a mute girl he barely knew? Anyways, it was _Rhaegar_. He did not have an unchivalrous bone in his body.

Ned gritted her teeth, shaking her head and ignoring Cersei’s scowl as she took the prince’s hand and allowed him to lead her towards the middle of the hall, where the instruments lay. 

_Bastard,_ she thought, before silently admonishing herself. One does not refer to the prince of Westeros as a bastard. 

“I hope you’re not too upset. I sensed there was some sort of confrontation going on, though, and I thought I’d break it up.”

 _By forcing me to play in front of all these people?_ she signed discreetly, sitting on a stool and picking up the violin.

“By having you show off your talent in front of the most noble crowd in the Seven Kingdoms. I meant it when I said you were gifted, Ned,” he responded, sitting down and adjusting the harp in his arms.

Eddara froze, looking at all the lords and ladies staring at them curiously. She could see Brandon, and Lyanna, and the Martells, and the Lannisters, and...

“Ned, just... just look at me, alright? If you’re nervous, just look at me.”

She turned to him, relaxing ever so slightly as he struck the first chord. 

And then, they played, the haunting melody filling the hall. Ned never took her eyes off his, her fingers deftly moving across the strings of their own accord, matching his pace, the voices of the nobles drifting farther and farther away as her ears were filled solely with the sound of music.

Rhaegar smiled at her, and she returned it, a feeling of elation swelling in her chest, and something else she couldn’t quite identify. 

Everything fell away.

For a moment, they were the ministrels of Maidenpool, and all of Westeros was their song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know this chapter was kind of short, but that’s because I’m also uploading a fancast of the characters. The next one will probably be longer.
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you think!


	8. Fancast

Hey guys! I know this is a little abrupt, but I’d just like to upload a fancast of what I imagine all the characters look like!

 

**Eddara Stark(I put two people because I literally could not pick between them, so pick which one you like and feel free to tell me in the comments!)**

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**Rhaegar Targaryen(yes, I know he doesn’t have purple eyes, but everything else is good)**

 

 

 

**Lyanna Stark**

 

**Robert Baratheon**

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**Brandon Stark**

 

 

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**Arthur Dayne**

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**Elia Martell**

 

 

**Cersei Lannister**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Feel free to comment if you want to see a fancast for any of the other prominent characters in the story, and I’ll try to add it in!


	9. A Flame

They finished the song, applause echoing in Rhaegar’s ears as he rose and took a bow, taking Eddara’s hand in his as she curtsied next to him. 

He was no stranger to performing in front of crowds, so he brushed off the attention easily, staring at his partner instead. 

Eddara’s grey eyes were mesmerizing as she turned her head to look at him, filled with wonder, and he found that he couldn’t turn away.

“You did it.” Rhaegar knew she could, and yet even he’d been surprised by how well they’d harmonized together, how easy it had been to just play and lose himself in the music with her. 

It was a moment he never wanted to end, as he clasped her impossibly soft hand in his... but it slipped away despite his best efforts, her hand sliding out of his grip as smooth as silk as Ned’s brother tugged her away to rejoin her siblings. 

“Rhaegar?” Arthur laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Is everything alright?”

“... Yes, yes. It’s fine,” he answered distractedly, Eddara’s grey eyes, shining like silver, imprinted in his mind. 

***************

Rhaegar Targaryen was in love with Eddara Stark.

It was not as much of a startling revelation as it was a gradual realization.

He realized that he could not pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love. It happened day by day, hour by hour, nothing like the heart-stopping, break neck pace of romances that were ever-present in the songs.

It happened somewhere in between trips to Flea Bottom and silent discussions in the library, through harps and violins and secret hand signs.

Or perhaps... perhaps it’s merely an infatuation. 

Everything would certainly be easier if it was.

It isn’t, he _knows_ it isn’t, but he will pretend, because it is better than the alternative.

***************

Ned couldn’t forget the look in his eyes.

The warmth in his gaze when they played the last note at the feast the other night, the gentleness of his features, how beautifully they had sounded together, like two halves of the same harmony.

“Eddara?” Lyanna was giving her a quizzical look, but Ned merely beamed in response, finishing off her breakfast before making some excuse or the other to leave their chambers, a lightness expanding in her chest.

She turned the corner, smiling upon seeing the prince sitting in a chair in the library, a book on his lap.

“Eddara! There you are.”

Rhaegar motioned for her to come over, and she did, taking a seat next to him.

 _Are you ready?_ she asked, and he nodded, so she began reviewing the signs from their last lesson, his purple eyes attentive as he watched her. It was easy, with the books surrounding them, for him to ask her how to sign certain words and for her to respond, so they decided then that the library would be their meeting place.

Their lessons continued for the next few weeks, and it wasn’t long before Rhaegar started to respond to her, sending secret signals her way during feasts or at court.

Eddara loved that he signed back to her. Lyanna and Brandon had made an effort to understand her hand signs, but they always spoke back to her, growing too impatient to learn to sign for themselves. Benjen was still learning, so for now, it was just she and Rhaegar, in a silent world of their own.

She didn’t mind it — didn’t mind how regular and routine her meetings with him had gotten, didn’t mind how their conversations would often turn to politics and philosophy and everything in between, didn’t mind how sometimes, when they played together in his music room, she felt as if nothing could touch them.

Ned couldn’t name the feeling — or perhaps she just didn’t want to, as she watched Rhaegar sit on the throne one day in court, taking the place of his father who had been feeling a bit under the weather. 

“He is a natural, isn’t he?” 

Eddara jumped at the sound of Varys’ voice, nodding hesitantly. She couldn’t disguise the shudder that ran down her back, though — they say the Master of Whispers had eyes everywhere, and she didn’t like the way he was looking at her now.

“Rhaegar will be a great king, undoubtedly. He’s charming, strong, kind... I sometimes think the ladies vying for his hand in marriage care as much for him as they do for the crown.”

Varys chuckled, though Ned found nothing amusing about that statement. “A foolish thing to think, I know. Everyone sees the crown, when they look at him, how could they not?”

 _Not everyone,_ Eddara wrote furiously. There was certainly much more to Rhaegar than his title, and for Varys to even suggest otherwise...

He grinned at her, the Master of Whispers, a sly smile in his face as he leaned in to her ear.

“A word of advice, Lady Eddara? Do not love the dragon. You'll only get burnt."

And then, as if a candle had been snuffed out, Ned went cold, as Varys walked away, the too-wide smile never leaving his face.

She hadn’t put a word to the feeling that she had been filled with since that day at the feast, and yet, he had named it for her.

And it was a forbidden word.

_Love._

***************

Ned met him later that day in the music room, his hands on the harp as he eagerly awaited her arrival, and for a moment, she recognized herself in his eyes. She saw the same excitement, the same joy and tenderness and sadness mirrored in his gaze, but only for a moment before his expression twisted into something more lightly jovial than anything else. 

No, he did not — _could not_ — feel the same way, and she did not want to ruin the only real friendship she’s ever had, so she gave him a soft smile and sat down next to him as if she hadn’t just had an earth-shattering revelation.

It’s better this way anyways. He didn’t love her, and even if he did, he couldn’t marry a mute girl — Aerys would never allow it. Besides, Eddara was here for _Lyanna,_ and the thought of stealing her sister’s chance to be a queen was enough to make Eddara backtrack. 

So, for now — forever — she would smile, and say nothing. 

Even if she felt a tingling sensation in her hands where his fingers brushed hers, even if Ned was suddenly all too aware of their closeness as he guided her to play. 

Friends they’ll remain, and nothing more.


End file.
